


Enough For Now

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [39]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Asgardian Tony Stark, Comfort, Dancing, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feels, Fluffy Ending, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Illusions, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Gets a Hug, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Pain, Plans For The Future, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Slow Dancing, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Unfortunate Circumstances, Wishful Dreaming, Worried Loki (Marvel), Worried Thor (Marvel), resignation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22099009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Anthony and Loki are in love, and are bound as closely together as it is possible for two people to be– but no one else can know the truth. Notever.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Going Down Swinging [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330490
Comments: 26
Kudos: 463





	Enough For Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaxonkreide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxonkreide/gifts).



> This one is for Jax, who asked for a secret relationship fic with good big brother Thor and someone else asking Loki to dance while Tony has to just watch. Since this was written in May (the first of these _not_ written in April!) I doubt you remember it, but I hope you get some enjoyment out of the fic anyway!  
>   
>  **Prompt** — _“It just… hurts.”_

If anyone found out about Anthony’s relationship with the second prince of the realm, then he would be sentenced to execution. There was no ‘maybe’ about it, no murkiness in which to fish for a loophole. Loki was a _prince_ , and he had a duty to perform– to prevent him from doing so in any way was tantamount to treason, and the punishment for treason was always death.

Oh, Anthony knew that the sentence would not be carried out, because to end his life would be to end Loki’s as well, and that would defeat the purpose of charging him with treason in the first place. Banishment was more likely, but only marginally more agreeable—

Banishment, and then hope that they could reunite once Thor had risen to the throne.

No. Secrecy was far preferable to that.

They had been together for centuries, and in love for far longer than that, for it had taken them a long time to pluck up the courage and take the plunge when they _knew_ that the risk was so great. They had grown as close as it was possible for two people to be, emotion and promises layered together in a bond that was unbreakable. They knew they would want no one else, and after a century of hidden happiness Loki had used his seiðr to bind them together in a manner that was more than any wedding vow. They considered themselves married, bound by all but the law– but no one else could ever know.

Well, not quite _no one_. Loki’s brother, Crown Prince Thor had known for almost as long as they had, having interrupted their very first kiss when he had stormed into Loki’s room for something or another, and then had proclaimed that it was _about time_. He never did admit to them what had clued him in, but he would smile fondly at them every time they asked.

If not for Thor, Anthony didn’t think that either of them would have been able to cope half so well– for Thor was able to help them find excuses to be away, was able to help cover for them when anyone wondered _why_ they spent so much time together. Thor even helped dissuade the Allfather out of marrying Loki to a Vanir lady in a very close call some years ago, and… well, he just gave them both a friend, someone else who knew to help keep them both from going mad.

He also helped them have moments together that they otherwise likely would have missed, such as a hunting trip where Thor suggested the group separate into pairs, or a welcome feast for some dignitaries from Alfheim which a weapon smith never would have been able to attend without a royal invitation.

Anthony could not eat at the same table as Loki, of course, but once the _eating_ part of the event was done and everyone began to mingle, they could stand beside each other and talk. They were both far from used to it, but it remained difficult to watch the couples in the middle of the room, twirling gracefully or simply holding each other, and to know that _they_ would never be able to do the same.

Still, despite the sad reminder that such things brought to mind, Anthony knew he would never deny Loki’s request that he attend. After all, he knew that Loki despised such celebrations, for despite recognising and often utilising their usefulness as moments for manipulation, he had never cared for the noise nor the company. As such, Anthony was glad that his presence could bring a smile to Loki’s lips, able to find some joy in the fact that even if they could not hold hands as they wished, even if they could not risk even the slightest touch of skin, they were at least not apart.

Well, not until the daughter of the elvish official appeared before them, a pert smile dancing over her lips and a hopeful gleam in her eyes. 

“Price Loki,” she said boldly, holding out her hand. “Would you do me the honour of sharing this dance?”

Loki had no grounds to refuse. After all, he was officially unattached, with no spouse and no betrothed. Besides, she was asking for a _dance_ , not a marriage proposal, and no matter how much Anthony could tell Loki wanted to say no, he had no choice but to take her hand lest he risk offending her, and therefore the rest of the elvish delegation.

Despite knowing that, it still left a sour taste on the tip of Anthony’s tongue. It was never a good feeling, watching the love of his life be led away by someone else.

He turned away from the scene, not needing to watch further– he had seen it all before, after all. It wasn’t that he was jealous of the girl, because he _knew_ where Loki’s heart lay, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t jealous at all. She could openly ask Loki for a dance, she could stand in his arms in front of the whole realm, she could dance with him and hold his hand, and… Anthony could never do any of that.

A tankard of mead was calling him, and Anthony plucked one up from a table as he passed, swallowing down as much as he could in one go. He was aware of someone approaching, but didn’t respond until he heard them speak.

“Anthony?” Thor asked. “Are you well?”

“That’s uh, an interesting question, my prince,” Anthony muttered, staring into the empty tankard. He considered fetching another, but when he glanced up to the dance floor and met Loki’s wistful gaze for just a moment, he knew that getting drunk would only make things worse.

And their eyes truly did only meet for a moment, because then Loki’s gaze flashed back to the girl in his arms with an indulgent smile as he nodded along to whatever she was trying to talk to him about.

“Anthony,” Thor said again, his hand coming to rest on Anthony’s shoulder. But Anthony shrugged him off.

“Don’t bother. I suppose am _not_ feeling well,” Anthony said, turning on his heel, his voice stiff. “Would you give Prince Loki my apologies?”

“My friend, are you sure—”

“There is nothing that you can do, Thor,” Anthony said, already walking away. “Just… leave it.”

He trudged the familiar path from the palace to the town, and slipped through the door to his forge. He paused in the entryway, unsure– he knew it would be some time before Loki could leave the feast without arousing suspicion, so there was no point in simply waiting. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest, either– his mind was too agitated. So, instead, he pulled on a heavy leather apron, uncaring that he was still dressed in his court finery, and he moved to work on a commission that he had started that morning.

It was only an axe, something that was more than simple for him– but the mundane task allowed his mind to wander, allowed him to work on sorting out his thoughts.

Anthony loved Loki more than anything, he really, truly did. There was nothing in the world that could change that. But when he thought about how Loki was forced to openly act like he was searching for a wife– when Loki had to accept advances from ladies that he could never love, when Anthony was forced to stand to the side and not only watch his _husband_ in all but name dance with someone else but also watch him _suffer_ … well, it had long since become more than he could bear.

It was harder than anyone else could ever comprehend. Anthony wanted the world to know he was Loki’s, he wanted the world to know that Loki was _his_ , but their relationship needed to remain a secret– and that hurt more than anything else ever could.

He paused in his work, his hands stalling as he felt a familiar spark of energy dance through the room and brush over his skin like a soft caress.

“You’re early,” Anthony said, placing down his tool. He didn’t glance up, however, but stared down at his work, his hands squeezing the edge of the bench with enough force that he heard the metal begin to crack.

“I was worried.”

He heard Loki move around the workshop, and then he felt hands running up his back, smoothing away some of the tension.

“How did you manage to get away?” Anthony asked.

“Thor,” Loki said. His hands pressed into Anthony’s shoulders, and Anthony leaned back into his touch with a heavy sigh. “He came and informed me that he thought you were unwell, and I begged leave of my mother to check on my friend.”

“The Allfather will not be happy with that,” Anthony muttered.

“Likely not,” Loki said. “But mother agreed to speak with him on my behalf. She knows that loyalty to a friend can sometimes be more important than duty.”

“Depending on the duty,” Anthony muttered.

“I would say that it is more dependent on the friend,” Loki replied. Then he sighed. “Anthony, I saw the way you left, and I knew I had to follow. I’m never going to leave you to deal with sadness alone.”

Despite the way that the words made Anthony warm, he turned around to face Loki properly, forcing Loki to release his hold on Anthony’s shoulders.

“It was unwise.”

“Perhaps,” Loki allowed. “But Anthony, I cannot stand to see you that way, and I could not stay there when I knew you needed me more. I belong by your side, and nowhere else.”

Anthony closed his eyes and leaned forward, allowing his head to come to rest on Loki’s shoulder. He curled his arms around Loki’s waist just as one of Loki’s arms wrapped around his, the other coming up to gently stroke through his hair.

As he clung to Loki as tightly as he could, all Anthony could think was that while Loki’s words were sweet… well, that was the problem, wasn’t it? They both felt so strongly, so powerfully– they both _knew_ that this was right, but by the rules of society they _didn’t_ belong. In the eyes of the realm they needed to stay apart, and there was nothing that either of them could do about that fact.

Nothing, but try and hold each other together when all they felt like doing was falling apart.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” Anthony whispered, his voice cracking.

Loki paused, his hands stilling for a moment. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“All of this hiding, this sticking to the shadows. All of the secrecy and all of the _lies_.” Anthony leaned closer, his hand clenching into Loki’s shirt. “It just… hurts.”

“I know,” Loki replied. His arms tightened, and Anthony felt the press of Loki’s face against his hair. “I don’t like it either.”

“I _hate_ it,” Anthony corrected. “I just want to be with you, that’s all. I just want to be able to hold you– I just want to be able to dance with you, and I want you to be able to dance with me.”

“I want that as well,” Loki whispered. “More than anything.”

Loki shifted then, his arms slightly changing position. Anthony felt the familiar warmth of Loki’s seiðr, and he glanced up to see that his workshop was shifting and changing, the walls burning gold and adorned with the same decorations as the palace hall. There were no other people, and Anthony knew, of course, that it was not real– but when soft music began to play, he leaned close into Loki’s arms and swayed to the sound of it, dancing in Loki’s arms as they never would be able to up in the real festivities.

The moment was pure, yet it was still tinged with sadness– and Anthony knew that he was not the only one to feel it.

“You are the only one I want to dance with,” Loki whispered, his lips brushing Anthony’s ear. “It’s only ever you.”

“And I you,” Anthony replied. “I just wish…”

“One day, everything will be better,” Loki said, turning his head to press a kiss to Anthony’s cheek. “When Thor is king, he can change things—”

“You know this society won’t change, not even at Thor’s word,” Anthony replied, leaning back a little and smiling sadly.

“Then… perhaps we can leave,” Loki said. His eyes were a little glassy, and as he spoke, a new illusion began to form. “Thor will allow us to _go_ , so that we can be together.”

As Anthony glanced about, he saw that the new illusion was not the hall up in the palace, nor was it anywhere else that Anthony recognised. But when he looked around at the trees that surrounded them, he began to notice the little things that made a place unique– the shape of the leaves, the colour of the grass, the height of the trees– and he knew that they were in Alfheim.

The thought made his eyes widen, and he looked around with new interest.

There had been moments in the past, moments of peace and quiet when they had been able to snatch some privacy, usually when they were curled together under a mound of blankets, resting in each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses and gestures of affection that spoke far louder than words ever could.

Sometimes, in those moments, they would like to weave a future, to talk about all the things they _would_ do, if things were different, if they ever had the chance. One of Loki’s favourites had always been a future where they would live on Alfhiem, where Loki’s skills as a mage wouldn’t be disparaged, where Anthony could continue his forge and they could live together in comfort and peace. A place where they could create a home, a home that was _theirs_.

And sure enough, as Anthony glanced about the clearing his gaze lay upon a cottage, just like the one he had heard Loki describe with bright, distant eyes and a wistful smile.

This is the future that Loki wanted, the future they _both_ yearned for… the future that might still be possible, so long as they held on to their ruse a little longer, so long as they both kept the secret.

So long as they suffered in silence for just a few decades more, then a happy ending might be within their grasp.

“When Thor is king,” Anthony echoed, his voice little more than a yearning sigh. “It can’t come soon enough.”

Loki didn’t respond with words– he didn’t need to. They both knew that they felt the same, and they both knew there was nothing they could do other than hold together and weather the storm.

And at least for now, they had the moments in between, the moments like _this_. The moments when they could just be, and they could almost, _almost_ forget what was waiting for them out in the rest of the world.

It wasn’t anywhere near perfect, but hopefully, it would be enough for them to hold on to, enough for them to cope until they could find something better.

It was _enough_.

Enough for now.


End file.
